Read Online Most Eagerly Yours by Allison Chase - Free Book Online Page A

over.
     
    “Aidan Phillips, you scoundrel. I might have known I’d find you here. Why do you skulk here alone like a Spitalfields footpad? And what the devil have you done with my brother?”
    Aidan had escaped into the relative quiet of the tearoom to avoid a certain young lady’s mother who believed he would make a perfect match for her charmingly bucktoothed but regrettably pin-brained seventeen-year-old daughter. But here, at last, was a welcome feminine voice.
    “Bea, my darling.” Turning, he closed the space between them and raised her satin-clad hand to his lips. “You grow more beautiful each time I see you.”
    “And you, dear sir, deliver flattery with more false sincerity than any other man alive.”
    “I practice before a mirror, you know.”
    He twirled her in a graceful pirouette. Auburn-haired and generously curvaceous, Beatrice Fitzclarence remained at thirty-two a striking woman, having inherited none of her father’s physical shortcomings and virtually all the charms that had made her mother, Dorothea Jordan, a favorite on the London stage. Tonight her peacock silk gown emphasized her finest assets with devil’s-bargain perfection. Her hair glittered and her skin glowed. Her lips tilted at their haughtiest.
    By God, she never failed to make him smile. “Have you only just arrived?” he asked her.
    “Yes. Arthur came earlier, but I drove over with the Countess of Fairmont and a new acquaintance.” Using her folded fan, she jabbed at the center of his chest. “You are avoiding my question.”
    “Fitz is in the cardroom.”
    The corners of her lightly rouged mouth turned down. “Oh, you can’t have left him alone.”
    “Never fear, he’s won enough tonight to offset any funds he might relinquish in my absence.”
    “Are you quite sure? He very nearly reduced himself to beggary last month.”
    “Beatrice, upon my honor, Fitz shall leave tonight’s festivities with heavier pockets than when he arrived.”
    She gave a satisfied humph and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “Dance with me. Or are you promised for this set?”
    “No,” he said as they made their way through the crowded octagon room and into the ballroom, “I’ve been maddeningly evasive all evening.”
    “And you call yourself a gentleman.”
    “I call myself no such thing. Shall we?”
    She placed her hand in his and together they stepped to the center of the dance floor. With an arch look she said, “What an irredeemable bachelor you are. And yet some young hopeful must eventually ensnare you. You must produce an heir.”
    He set his palm at her waist and guided her in the whirling steps of the waltz. “I had rather contract the pox than submit to the simpering opportunism of the marriage mart. Besides, I’m afraid you broke my heart when you married Devonlea.”
    She let go a bubble of laughter. “Aidan, dear boy, there is nothing the least bit breakable about you. Not your ego, your pride, certainly not your heart. That is what I like most about you. You are never likely to go to pieces in anyone’s hands. Unlike my brother. Tell me, how has he responded to all the fuss over Victoria’s impending coronation?”
    “Tolerably well. This new pavilion has proved an obliging distraction.”
    “Yes, how very tedious. The Summit Pavilion is all Arthur speaks of these days.”
    “Is he investing heavily?”
    Looking bored, she shrugged a half-bare shoulder as he moved with her in time to the music. “He believes Bath will suddenly become all the rage again. I have my doubts, but as long as he doesn’t bankrupt us, I am content.”
    “And this so-called elixir? Does he credit Claude Rousseau’s promise of eternal youth?”
    “A foolish notion, perhaps, but I confess I don’t see the harm in it.” She gave a momentary lift of her brows. “Convincing people they will feel rejuvenated often produces the desired effect. And who knows? Perhaps Rousseau is on to something.”
    “Perhaps.” But he